Through the Water and Into the Fire
by Kanadajin
Summary: A new galaxy...A new enemy...A new team... what could possibly go wrong?rnRhoannan finds out just how wrong that statement is. (starts on Earth)rnWill be updating
1. Part One

Personal Log –> Into The Fire: Part One  
Based on my SGA3 sim character  
Any resemblences to real people or places is purely coincidental.

* * *

The dog tags in her hand still felt warm and wet with blood, though they had been left untouched for over a year in her desk drawer. She ran her thumb over the punched out letters, idly tracing the sleek metal inscription.

For an entire year the dog tags had been in her desk drawer, a silent reminder of the consequences of her mistakes. Rhoannan promised to herself, and him, that she would never be the weakest link again; that she would never be the one to cause the loss of another's life. Never again.

A knock on her door caused Sub Lieutenant Orr to jump slightly and quickly drop the tags back into the drawer and slam it shut. Tompkins stood at the door, a file in hand and confused look on face.

"Ma'am?"

Calming herself and removing the agitated look she realized was written across her features, Orr leaned forwards in her chair and forced a small smile at the sergeant. "That file for me, Mr Tompkins?"

"Yes, ma'am," He nodded quickly, placing the manila tag folder lightly down on top of papers scattered across her chaotic desk. "Also, I have a message from Carter; you're needed in the tech-lab for some test or another, ma'am."

Orr nodded and peeked at the contents of the folder.

"Is that all?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Sighing, Orr smiled and waved her hand at him in sloppy dismissal, already mesmerized by the technical report and sized down diagrams in front of her. 'Cool,' she thought, 'a new power conversion protocol. Why does that suddenly make me feel like such a geek?'

The new protocol looked like it would work, and most likely would, but why would she be needed in the tech-lab? Curious and couriouser.

After gathering up a few papers and random bits and pieces of artefacts she had been studying, the young naval officer trudged her way through the labyrinth of corridors and halls until she reached her destination, the main tech-lab. Glancing in the lab, any ordinary human being would first be stuck by the amazing amount of junk and parts of junk were scattered across the large room. On second glance, while still amazed by the assorted junk, they would realize that very few of these objects looked like anything they had ever seen before except in science fiction movies. On third glance, one might even wonder if they were still sleeping and somehow dreaming about being in one of said science fiction movies.

Naquada generators, MALPs, parts of Egyptian looking devices, and lots of glowing things cluttered nearly all available surfaces, and all corners were stuffed with odds and ends of various types of alien technologies.

Orr grinned – she was in her element here, among these oddities that they often had no idea how to work or what their purpose might be. It was her passion, ever since she tried taking apart her brother's new guitar amp. First he was furious at her, but then he realized that she wasn't just trashing it and they started dismantling everything mechanical in sight. Unfortunately, when they tried to take apart the new lawn mower they did something they shouldn't have, lost a few pieces, and essentially destroyed the machine. Their dad forced them to mow the entire yard using just the old push mowers and a weed whacker that they hadn't yet gotten their paws on.

Rhoannan had moved on to bigger and better things, while her beloved brother toiled thanklessly on the family farm fixing tractors, hauling cattle, and getting screwed over by the government that failed to recognize the importance of agriculture.

That was part of the reason she had joined the military in the first place, to get away from the farm where sorrow seemed to cling to the grass and drift through the air unrestrained. Then she discovered that the military was pretty much the same way, and when she received the opportunity to work at an American base, she jumped at the chance to escape the repressed emotions building up in her homeland.

In the end, though, NORAD made her even more depressed – she saw first hand how the organization that was supposed to be a partnership between the two North American countries was really just a ruse. The Americans were in charge, and the Canadians were substandard workers brought in to keep up the image.

For a while, though not very many people knew it, Rhoannan had been highly suicidal; sometimes starting her car in the garage with the doors closed tightly, other times day dreaming of getting into a fatal car crash with a semi. If it looked like an accident, her family would get life insurance and everything would be taken care of by the military.

It got so bad that she would cry herself to sleep at night.

Then he was killed.

She found out about the two mysterious organizations in the lower parts of the mountain complex – the NID and SGC. Her life changed for the better, and that was what made her so guilty. She profited from his death and that tore at her heart every time she woke, walked into her office, got a pen out of her drawer, and every time she fell asleep.

The memories overwhelmed her, but a sudden crashing caused her to withdraw from her reflection to look over at a sheepish Sgt Stiler who was attempting to prop the lamp he had toppled over back up against the wall.

Shaking her head, clearing her mind, Orr darted over to the older man's side and gave him a hand with the annoying lamp.

"Yesh! What in the world was the quarter-master thinking when he ordered these lamps, I think you have to be the fiftieth person to trip over this thing," Rhoannan grinned at Stiler. "The day very first day it was stuck in here I look a nose-dive over those legs, with only a wrench to break my fall."

Stiler grinned and patted her shoulder, "well, their looks too damaged, so I guess it couldn't have been too bad."

Rhoannan raised an eyebrow saucily at him; "remember when I had that huge goose-egg on my forehead for a week about two months ago? Yeah, that was from that evil lamp."

They both laughed for a moment, before Rhoannan nodded and went back to her business of finding major – erm – Carter.

A pair of boots stuck out from under some alien device or another and the distinctive voice of Samantha Carter rang out, swearing as something made a crashing noise and the sound of metal and metal shrieked through the lab.

"_Left-tenant_ Colonel Carter," she called out cautiously to the boots.

A blonde head with a oil-streaked face popped out from the side of the device and searched with bright blue eyes for the source of the disruption.

"Oh, Lieutenant," she grunted, pulling herself out from under the thing. "Just the person I wanted to see. How would you like to have the pleasure of trying to figure out how to get to the control panel of this thing?"

Rhoannan grinned slightly; the General's sense of humour was rubbing off on the many had noticed as of late, and she was beginning to emulate the CO more and more often now that she was in command of the prestigious SG1.

"Oh, that'd be ducky, ma'am," she said as she pulled of her tunic and pulled her favourite bandana out and tied it around her head pirate style. "What seems to be the hold up?"

"My arms aren't as scrawny as yours and the manual release for the panel is wedged up inside where I can't reach."

Orr slithered underneath the alien device and looked around, flashlight in mouth, for the parts Carter verbally detailed for her.

"It's right in the centre, up about a foot inside the piping – it's a little red lever."

Frowning, she snaked her arm up inside the piping towards the lever. She was almost there when her arm refused to go any further. Grunting, Rhoannan twisted and turned, trying to wiggle her arm in further. "I guess this wouldn't be a good time to tell you some good news," she heard Carter say almost offhandedly.

"Pardon," she asked with a slight groan, as her arm seemed to stretch and pull at her shoulder.

"You got on."

Orr paused, her arm jammed up inside the device and the flashlight she had been holding in her teeth fell down to the ground and rolled merrily off on its way. What did she mean?

"Atlantis," Carter prompted.

All the frustration she had built up over the lever disappeared and the device was forgotten as a sudden shriek of delight and excitement cut through the silence, but quickly turned to one of pain as she twisted her arm inside the thing.

"Are you alright?" Carter crouched down, peering under the thing in worry.

Rhoannan nodded, ecstasy written across her face despite the pain in her arm.

"Are you joking? I'm on the team," she managed to croak, eyes alight.

Carter nodded and smiled widely at the younger woman's excitement.

"Woohoo!"

The extra boost had given Rhoannan the strength and determination to push that extra bit further and she pulled the lever, causing a _sproing_ing sound and the sudden appearance of a control panel on the upside of the device. She pulled her arm out and quickly crawled out from under. The news of Altantis was quickly forgotten, however, when both scientists' eyes fell upon the glowing and blinking control board.

"Oooooh," they cooed simultaneously.

"So cool," Orr gasped as a sequence of blue and orange lights flickered across a display screen. "What does it do?"

Carter, in a similar state of awe, shrugged and lightly stroked the surface of the device. "I have no clue."


	2. Part Two

Into the Fire: Part Two

* * *

"So, did you get accepted for that posting you put in a transfer for?"

"Yeah, mum. I did, but there's a bit of a hitch."

"Like what? If it's someplace dangerous, you know how I feel about that – but it's your decision to make. I just don't want you going some place where they…"

"Mum, Canada looks just as dangerous to some people as Africa does to us!"

"You're going to Africa?"

Rhoannan grimaced, "yeah, mum. My posting is in Africa. Rwanda."

"Rwanda! Rhoannan Jean Orr, what are you thinking? Have you even noticed that Rwanda is the worst country in the world – they kill millions of people there for sport," Sheryl Orr shrieked into the phone. "They kill women for fun! What in Gods name were you thinking, requesting to go there?"

Rhoannan waited for her mum to finish venting, which took almost fifteen minutes, before she said anything. "Mum, I actually didn't apply for Rwanda – I asked for Kenya, but they needed people in Rwanda. It's not that bad, mum. Honest! The base is very secure, and only the best get to go. It's an honour, and I'm sure to get at least a blue beret for this. They might even give us our own coloured beret!"

Her mum sighed, obviously drained by her outburst. "But honey, its so scary there."

Rhoannan closed her eyes and stifled a groan.

"Mum, it's okay. I'll be fine, I'm going to be surrounded by British SAS, Australian Rangers and American Marines! The only thing you have to worry about is that I'll get swept off my feet by an American and decide to live in the 'states when I get back."

She could tell her mum was getting to the end of her patience, so she did the sane thing and asked to talk to dad. "I haven't talked to him for almost a month except in e-mails. Which, by the way, I'm amazed you finally taught him to use. He even has his own e-mail address, it's adorable!"

Her mum admitted defeat and passed the phone off to her husband who had been pestering her the entire time to let him have the phone. He'd even gone as far as listening in for part of the conversation on the other line until Sheryl had gotten after him to quit eavesdropping.

"Hey there, stinker," a gravely voice came over the line. It choked Rhoannan up to hear the emotion dripping in his voice like tears. "How's my Roar doing?"

Fighting back her own tears, as she was sure her dad wasn't doing, she smiled and murmured, "hey pa. I'm doing good, how're you?"

"Missing my little Roarer," he replied in just as soft a voice.

"Dad, I'm sorry I haven't talked to you for so long. I've been busy and when I do call, you're out with the cattle or you're asleep."

"It's okay, honey. I just wish you'd have gotten your mother to wake me up when you called and I was home," her dad said wistfully. "Despite what the two of you seem to think, I'm not all old and frail. I'm in better shape than the both of yous."

Rhoannan grinned, "Just don't let my CO or mom hear that."

They chuckled and the old farmer sniffled softly.

"So I hear you're off to Africa, going to tame some lions and teach monkeys to play hockey?"

"No, did you know that in equatorial areas they don't get that much snow? It's never hockey season, always baseball. Besides," she joked, "it'd be awfully hard to find skates to fit those monkeys."

"Well, you could always use those strap on skates that Meagan and Neil-Willie had when they were little. And if there isn't snow, take roller blades and teach them road hockey."

Rhoannan giggled at the thought of a pack of monkeys playing road hockey in roller blades, "yeah, and we'd have to teach them to shout car when an elephant goes through."

A pleasant silence followed.

God, she was going to miss her dad.

Of course, she'd miss all of her family, but she and her dad were close. Buddies.

She was also close to Brett; it was like when someone said another person was the brother they'd never had, he was the brother she'd always had. He'd picked on her and infuriated her, as all brothers do, but he was always there for her. When she broke her collarbone, he was there trying to make her laugh. (Even though she broke it while running away from him as he threatened to toss her in the muddy garden.)

And when a mean boy in school said cruel things to her, he found out who the kid was and pinned him up against the lockers at eye-height and told him never to hurt his kid sister ever again. It still made her laugh to remember the reports of how big the kid's eyes were and how he was so scared he peed himself. She wasn't bugged again for the rest of year by the bullies, and that particular boy hardly ever spoke to her again. Even in high school he seemed wary of her, as though her giant brother was still hiding somewhere in the shadows, waiting for him to slip up and say something mean.

How could she leave them?

"So, you told your mum that there was a hitch to the transfer, and I'm assuming you don't mean the whole part about Rwanda."

Rhoannan gulped, she really didn't know how to tell her dad that she might never talk to him again, might be lost in another galaxy for the rest of her life. That she might get killed by some unknown enemy, or some other strange death that might face them all in the Pegasus galaxy. How could she possibly tell him that she wouldn't even be able to e-mail them from Rwanda? She'd have to think of something…

"Well, dad," she pulled at threads, desperately hoping one to be tied to an answer. "There's rules about going there, and one of them is no incoming or outgoing communications. So the time that I'm there, I don't think I'll be able to talk or e-mail."

There was a heavy silence.

"No communications? None?"

"None," she whispered.

"No e-mail?"

"No."

"What about snail mail? Post cards? _Carrier pigeons_?"

She shook her head, holding back the sobs, and made a negative sound.

'Wait! Post cards? Brain, you know something, you have an idea…. Go my minions… think!' Thoughts swirled through her head and a plan was formulated.

"Wait, dad, I think I might be able to get post cards out! When people go back and forth, I'll see about getting someone to carry a postcard and mail it from the states when they get back! Dad, you're a genius!"

They chuckled and joked for a while longer then made annoying kissing noises and said goodbye.

Rhoannan jumped out of her rack and hung the phone up as she dashed out of the blocks to the office she shared with Joe Parker. Luckily, the mousy anthropologist was still there working on some report that would likely never see the light of day.

"Hey Joe, I just had a thought – you're going to be in country for the next few years?"

Joe looked up with dark watery eyes from his work and twitched his pointy nose in curiosity. "Yeah," he squeaked, "why do you ask, Rho?"

Rhoannan plunked herself down in her comfy leather chair, absently wishing she could bring it with her, and propped her booted feet up on the edge of her messy desk.

"I don't want my folks to think that I'm not, you know, dead or in another galaxy – that kind of stuff – while I'm gone. Do you think you could do a favour for me?"

Joe played with the cord of his lamp nervously, "I'm not sure… what is it?"

"Could you fake my mail?"

"What?"

Rhoannan grinned at the startled look the little man wore, as if the cheese he had been eyeing up suddenly turned into a mousetrap. "I'd write a few post-cards ahead of time, and you could figure out my writing style, etc, and mail them off for me and then when they mail me back, care of you, you can write back for me! It'd work, I'll just have to think up some scenarios that might happen and write out a few examples of how I'd react. You could use that to write a few post-cards, maybe one every few months, and mail them to my folks for me."

"Opening someone else's mail is illegal in the USA, Rho."

She smiled and tossed the eraser she had been fiddling with at his balding head.

"Not if I give you permission, hun."

Joe paused for a few moments, thinking over her proposal then shrugged and smiled at her. "I suppose I could give you a hand."

**"Great!"**


	3. Part Three Chapter One

Into The Fire – Part 3 – Chapter 1

* * *

Three more missions with the SGC and then she'd be off to Atlantis.

Orr anxiously straitened her tunic and fiddled with her radio antenna as she waited for the gate to activate. There, gathered at the bottom of the ramp, was the team she had worked with for the past year. They had gotten to know each other, but they weren't as close as some of the other teams that had been together since the creation of the SGC.

"Lieutenant Orr?"

The quiet voice startled her, and she turned to see shy Lieutenant Williams.

"Lieutenant Williams, what's up," she asked calmly, letting herself switch into officer mode. "The 'gate working fine?"

Williams nodded, "yeah. I just wanted to congratulate you on getting on the Atlantis op."

Despite herself, Rhoannan smiled and then, disregarding all military protocols, she gave him a quick hug.

Williams, and everyone else who saw it, looked shocked at the sudden display, then he quickly gave way to blushing bright red. "What was that for," he asked quietly, eyes shifting around the room desperately to see whom else saw the hug.

No one met his eyes; they were all trying too hard not to laugh.

"That," Rhoannan grinned at the befuddled and adorably good looking Lieutenant, "was my congratulations to you; I heard that you got on the expedition too. Good job!"

Williams smiled back and nodded in thanks, blushing like a beat the whole while, then scurried away back to the control room where he'd be away from the prying eyes of the SG team assembled in the gate room. Rhoannan smiled as she watched him leave, but a cough from her CO made her do a double check of emotions and she instantly fell into parade rest; her face blank and prepared for anything that might jump out at them on the other side of the wormhole.

The gate opened with a whoosh and the team moved out into the unknown.


	4. Part Three Chapter Two

Into The Fire: Part Three - Chapter Two

* * *

As the MALP had shown, it was night on the other side of the wormhole.

Pulling on a pair of night vision goggles, Orr cautiously made her way down the steep stone steps surrounding the stargate, P-90 at the ready.

After fanning out and searching the perimeter, Colonel Trapper called the 'all clear' and radioed in to the SGC that it was safe to shut down the gate. With an indescribable poof the wormhole deactivated and the area fell into darkness only penetrated by a few silvery stars and the team's NVGs. It was very quiet.

Gathering at the foot of the steps, the five explorers discussed what to do next.

"The prelim seems to be that this place has been forgotten – no paths anywhere to be seen, at least not in this light. So," Trapper nodded to the team's archaeologist who pulled out a palm pilot with a smile, "where does the bidding start?"

Welfing raised his hand with a smirk, "I say primitive civilization."

Nodding with enthusiasm Keller noted the sergeant's choice down on the palm pilot, "and what are ya betting today?"

Welfing looked thoughtful, "how about my cookies?"

Keller glanced at Trapper, who shrugged.

"Okay… sir, how about you," he tapped captain Perschke with his stylus. "So far we've got cookies on a primitive civilization, and I'm betting my fruit cocktail on ruins, what do you say?"

Perschke leaned against the stone steps and rubbed his chin, "I say abandoned naquadah mine."

Keller marked it down, "and what'll you be betting?"

The older man un-slung his pack and rummaged through one of the compartments, cursing as he searched for his IMPs. With disgust he pulled out a metallic package and read the label outloud. "Baked cherry pie desert."

The rest of the team backed away, hand out to signal they would have nothing to do with the captain's desert. Perschke laughed and tossed it back into his bag.

Trapper grinned, "You'd better win, Ian, or you just might actually have to eat that."

Perschke smiled and mocked a revolted shudder before shouldering his bag again.

"What're you betting on then, Mike?"

Eyeing Keller's upheld palm pilot the team commander shrugged, "how about lots of little happy bunny rabbits and giant scary monsters that eat them?"

The four men laughed and wrapped up their betting.

The didn't need to ask Orr what she would bet – the first few times they had she'd just glared at them and made some annoyed sound in the back of her throat. She made it clear that she didn't approve of what they were doing, but since the team leaders were doing it, she made no effort to stop them. She was too by-the-book and stuck up to join them.

At least, that's what they thought of the silent Canadian in their midst.

Deep down, Rhoannan was laughing along with them and betting her peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the possibility that some absurd scenario might take place. Deep down, all she wanted was to be friends with these people, to joke around and go out for a beer after work, but something held those desires down. She couldn't let them see her like a friend, and her training told her why – but that didn't stop her from not joining them.

In the end, it was fine with her that they saw her as a stone-cold figure that won't bend and definitely never break. That's how soldiers are supposed to be. And so while they joked and made bets, Orr was scanning their surroundings and searching for clues.

She found one.

"Terra Lima, Terra Echo, over."

The men stopped their jokes abruptly and listened silently as Trapper answered on the radio. "Terra Echo, Terra Lima. Go ahead, over."

Keller looked over to where he had last caught glimpse of the silent lieutenant; she was further way now and crouched down by the edge of what looked to be a coniferous forest.

"Terra Lima, I've found what looks to be a path here, sir. It's faint, but appears to lead into the forest. Over."

Trapper smiled and nodded to the rest to fall out and head down her way.

"Alright, lieutenant, we're on our way."

Keller could almost taste Orr's disgust at the lack of proper radio procedures from where he stood at the back of the pack heading down the hill.

Welfing leaned over and smiled at the civilian, "that'll get her riled up, huh?"

They snickered quietly together on their way down the hillside.

The path wound through the forest, going past stone alters and shrines, and looping through a set of ancient ruins that looked very well-kept. The grasses around the path looked like they were kept trimmed and a border of stones were carefully placed in unfamiliar patterns.

"Looks like I'm in the lead," Keller whispered over the radio.

Rhoannan smiled to herself, she could allow it – she was in point and the others wouldn't be able to see her. His using the radios without the proper procedures, she didn't mind that much. Really, she didn't give a damn about it, she just didn't want any carelessness on her part to come back and bite them all in the ass. Like it did with…

Orr shook the thought out of her head and made herself pay more attention to her surroundings, the lack of birds or animals, and the four bumbling males behind her.

She suddenly halted.

No birds?

She listened carefully – other than that of her companions, there wasn't a single sound to be heard. This definitely wasn't good. She held her hand out and signaled for the others to get down.

"Echo," Trapper whispered into the radio, using her call sign. Even though he himself didn't care for the protocols, there was no reason to agitate her further by using her name on the radio. He'd had his head chewed off by the feisty young woman enough times to have learned his lesson – and respect her devotion to the rules. "What's up?"

In an unusual dismissal of those rules she seemed to love ever so much, Orr answered back shortly and quickly. "Something's up. I don't know what, but something just ain't alright."

Keller and Welfing exchanged worried glances – if she was so disturbed that she didn't use call signs and 'over', they must be in deep shit.

For at least ten minutes they crouched there, stalk still and silent as the grave, before Orr broke the silence. "I'm going to check up ahead – stay here."

Trapper and Perschke, even though they were in charge, trusted her skills enough to follow her order, but that didn't give them the right to just let her go off by herself.

Trapper motioned for the others to stay together and he went ahead after Orr.

She glared at him like a pissed off Goa'uld, but he ignored her – pointing to the rank insignia on his vest. "Rock, paper, rank – I win!" He whispered to her.

She just glared back.

They continued on, creeping quietly down the path until they reached a stone marker unlike any of the others they had seen so far. It was at least two stories high and shaped like a miniature pyramid.

Orr began circling carefully around it when Trapper suddenly felt cold dread wash over him. He looked over to where Orr had been only moments before and saw a dark figure rising up like a snake about to strike. He tried to call out, but a sharp pain to the back of his skull made the world seem to spin and fireworks exploded in his eyes. Then darkness took him.

Rhoannan turned soon enough to see her commanding officer fall under the blow of a hooded figure and, guessing that the thing wouldn't be alone, spun around and came face to hood with the scariest thing she had ever seen in her life.

There wasn't anything to see – really – just darkness that seemed to jump out at her and blot out all traces of warmth or light. It hit her in the chest, bashing her back and effectively knocking the wind out of her. Gasping for air, she tried reaching for her radio to warn the others, but the black spots that had flooded her vision took hold and she passed out.


	5. Part Three Chapter Three

Into The Fire - Part Three - Chapter Three(?)

A strange clicking sound filtered through the fog surrounding two unmoving figures. A slight breeze played with their jackets and chaotic hair. The smaller of the two dazed humans slowly moved with a low groan; the other remained still. Cautiously, the smaller one opened an eye hesitantly, then the other. Mist swirled around like something out of a cheap horror film, and strange clicks and moans echoed around them.

"Oh fuck."

The second, larger human stirred, roused by its companion's exclamation.

Craning their heads around the two tried to regain their bearings.

"Lieutenant?"

The smaller human twisted to look at the speaker, "sir?"

"Why are we hanging upside-down?"

A strong breeze pushed at the hanging captives and set them gently swinging back and forth, bound hands dragging against the rough dirt.

"Je ne sais pas, sir."

Reaching up to rub its beard, the larger human sighed and mumbled, "great. Just great."

* * *

Perschke kept the remaining team members still and silent for at least three hours before deciding he really, really, didn't like things. Quickly and silently, he ordered Welfing to get Keller back to the 'gate and secure the area.

"Sir?" Welfing protested as the captain went to go ahead down the path Trapper and Orr had gone. "Should we break ourselves up like this? It's not advisable if there's hostiles."

Though he was loath to agree, Perschke had to admit that the kid was right. IF, and that's a big if, the colonel and lieutenant were mia – there would be some baddies around and looking for any friends their prisoners might have had tagging along behind.

"Fine," he gave in with a hissing sigh. "Keep Keller between us, I've got point."

Welfing nodded and tapped Keller's shoulder, passing him his zat sidearm.

"I've got my own, sergeant," the archaeologist pointed to his handgun.

Welfing smiled, "this kills better. Now keep your head down."

They fell out, in a steady crouched pace, following the footprints of two pairs of standard issue combat boots, one size 12, another size 8, leaving behind their own assorted tracks.

* * *

Rhoannan's head felt like it was about to split in two.

Being suspended upside down doesn't help either, she thought as the blood pooled in her brain. She could just imagine how red her face must be.

"What's the last thing you remember, echo?"

"We were checking out some big stone thing when I saw you get cracked over the head from behind and something tried to do the same to me. I dodged it, but it smacked me pretty good in the chest and I passed out. Knocked the wind right out of me."

"Damn," Trapper muttered. His head was aching just as bad, if not worse, than hers.

"Did you get a visual on the baddies?"

Rhoannan shook her head, instantly regretting the movement as her brains seemed to smash around on the inside of her skull. It was enough to rip an agonized groan out of her. Trapper twisted to see a look of terrible pain on his lieutenant's face.

'Sons on bitches,' he thought angrily. "All I saw was something big and dark."

"Yeah," she agreed. "That about sums up what I saw."

"Son of a bitch."

* * *

_'Come on, Mike, where the hell did you go?'_

Perschke crouched next to a pair of footprints, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

Behind him Keller and Welfing squatted behind some big shrubs off the path.

It just didn't make any sense to him – they followed the prints this far, then they just stopped, like they were plucked right from where they stood. Tracing a print with his fingers, the 45-year-old Marine Corps captain groaned. His knees hurt like a bitch, damned arthritis, and he couldn't find a trace of where Mike Trapper or the lieutenant. He was getting far too old for this.

"Still no answer on the radio," heasked over his shoulder.

Welfing shook his head, "negative, sir."

_'Where the hell did you go?'

* * *

_

Trapper had managed to free his hands by chewing through the hemp like rope.

'Needs salt,' he thought with a laugh to himself. He didn't bother saying anything out loud, Orr wouldn't care or find it at all amusing most likely.

"So, echo," he spit a piece of rope out of his mouth with disgust, "need a hand?"

Orr turned and graciously held out her own wrist to be untied.

"Thanks, sir."

If they hadn't been hanging upside down he would have shrugged.

"No prob – keep your eyes peeled."

Soon the ropes fell away and Trapper noticed, for the first time, that the young woman's hands were covered with blood. It was old and drying, but had obviously come from deep cuts on her wrists where the ropes had been tied.

"Jesus, kid! What the hell happened?"

"Nothing, sir." Orr covered her wrists with her sleeves and tried to wipe away the blood. "Just got a little cut up from the ropes while trying to get them undone."

Trapper looked at her in disbelief, but realized that he would get nothing more from the stubborn lieutenant. Craning his neck, the older man looked up to where his ankles were securely tied together and the short amount of line between his feet and the bough they were suspended from. It would be tricky, but he could probably pull himself up and untie himself. Without any further ado he started straining to get himself up to his ankles, fighting gravity the whole way.

Meanwhile, Orr began calmly searching her vest and the pockets she could reach for anything useful. All she found was a picture in her breast pocket of her family. Everything else had been taken away.

Well, almost everything. In her boot she could still feel the dagger stuck between the layers of leather and her wool socks.

Before she could even think of reaching up for it, something black and foul smelling appeared like magic in front of her. Looking up, she saw it was one of the things that had attacked them… and it was holding her zat.

'Oh shit,' ran through her head just as the weapon fired.

* * *

Welfing, Keller and Perschke all spun around with their weapons up as the familiar sound of a zat discharging echoed through the woods.

"Where'd it come from," Keller whispered, moving back to back with Welfing who kept his P-90 trained on the surrounding trees.

"I dono," Welfing answered hoarsely.

Sudden static breaks on their radios made the archaeologist jump nearly out of his skin. A pattern was repeated with the static taps. Keller listened closely.

"Is that Morse code?"

Welfing shook his head.

"No… I don't recognize it… if it is it's garbled, meaningless."

The breeze shifted and the light fog got denser and swirled around their feet.

Keller had a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. It was like the time he chugged a bottle of Buckley's on a dare – burning, but cold at the same time. Welfing felt more like there were frogs bouncing around in his gut; he was getting antsy, and he clutched his p90 like there was no tomorrow.

Perschke rose silently and began rounding the imposing rock pillar, checking for any signs of entrances or some sort of teleportation device. There were none that he could see, but the drawings that were on the stone disturbed the stony old marine.

Images of people hanging from a tree, and what looked to be dogs or wolves jumping at them… all drawing were bordered by two tall, robes figures that seemed to be leering over their captives.

Then he saw it – in the bushes on the far side of the pillar was a pile of equipment that had previously been carried by Mike and Orr. Missing was a radio, a zat and handgun.

He froze, looking back at the drawings on the stone. Something clicked in his mind when he saw a picture of a third robed figure looming behind a tree, as more human figures seemed to be searching.

_"Fuck!"_

Keller and Welfing were startled when Perschke dashed over to them, grabbed them by the shoulders and began dragging them back down the path.

"Sir," Welfing had to keep himself from shouting the word questioningly.

"Turn of your radios," Perschke growled as quietly as possible as they ran, "and shut the hell up. Keep you eyes open – we're going back to the gate now!"

Neither of the younger men thought to argue, but Welfing couldn't help but exclaim, "but the colonel and Orr?"

Perschke didn't look back, and kept running the whole time as they hastily made their way back to the gate. Keller dialed the DHD, entered his code and ran up to the gate.

"Code entered sir," he gasped, as he reached the wormhole.

Perschke nodded then pushed the scientist through, then jumped himself, pulling Welfing along with.

Once on the other side he looked up from where he had fallen and motioned to the control room to shut down the gate.

"Captain, what the** hell** happened?"

Perschke looked over to see General O'Neill walking into the gateroom with a less than happy frown on his face. All the others could do was shake their heads.

"Something got them – I think it was using our radios to try and find the rest of us. I found their stuff in the bushes by a big rock thing," he panted, pulling himself up off the ramp ignoring the young marine guard who offered his hand. "Whatever they are, they're fucking big and scary and they've got Colonel Trapper and Lieutenant Orr."

O'Neill closed his eyes and made a face that looked like he was trying not to swear.

"Sir, permission to mount a rescue with lots of back up?"

With a grimace and an eye rub, the General nodded and waved his hand.

"Yeah, I'll call up SG-1, 9 and 14 for backup…" he started saying, then opened his eyes and took a hard look at the three exhausted looking men before him. This seemed familiar, like it'd happened before. Had it?

Janet.

Yeah, that's what this reminded him of – when they lost little Napoleon…

Seeing the blank look on Perschke's face he realized he had stopped for an inner monologue mid-sentence. He was too tired. Too old.

Well… not that old.

"I'll call them up to meet in the briefing room AFTER you've gone through everything with SG1 and seen the doc."

He could tell from Perschke and the others' faces that they wanted to protest but he raised his hands and shook his head, pointing to the exit. Perschke saluted, grabbed Keller by the shoulder, and led the way to the infirmary.

Nodding to Walter in the control room he mumbled, "call up the cavalry."


	6. Part Three Chapter Four

Into The Fire: part three, chapter four

* * *

In reply: I know that this part of the story doesn't happen in Atlantis - I'm well aware of this fact. However, I want this story to start BEFORE she goes to Atlantis. Kapeshe?  
Don't worry, though. She'll get there soon enough, I just want to show her how she is on Earth and then see her evolve on Atlantis.

* * *

The search party arrived through the gate at what seemed to be mid to late morning on the planet. Fanning out they silently began their trek into the shadowy forest, praying to find the two missing officers alive. Perschke, the only member of his team allowed to join the SAR, gripped his P90 so tightly his knuckles were bone white. If anything happened to either of his teammates because of his failure to return sooner or even to go get them right away he knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself. He and Mike had been friends since basic training, their kids were like cousins, and their wives were practically sisters they were so close. Christmas' were held together, and come Easter there was a gigantic egg hunt on the Perschke family farm.

And Orr… she was a good kid.

To him, well into his 40s, that's what she was, just a little girl. The kid was only 24 for Christ's sake; she should still be in college and hanging out on the beach, not stuck on some alien planet. Kids these days, he thought with the first smile he'd had in 24 hours.

"_Sierra Golf Niner, Foxtrot India India. Over."_

"Foxtrot India India, Sierra Golf Niner. Go ahead, over."

"_How far up the path is the rock? Over."_

Perschke looked around, gathering his bearings.

"Oh, I'd say from my location a half click. Over."

"_Copy that, Niner. Out."_

He was tempted to add a double click like they normally would, but he had to remind himself that this was a serious situation, calling for the serious use of the radio procedures, and not a slack, civilian-like op.

"Alright – It was right around here where Orr called the halt," he showed the tracks to the two marines and member of SG1 that were tagging along behind him. "She and Colonel Trapper moved up ahead and were gone for approx three hours before we headed out after them. After another half hour we heard the 'zat fire and booked it back to the 'gate."

The Jaffa Teal'c raised an eyebrow.

"You did not attempt to determine the whereabouts of ColonelTrapper or RhoannanOrr?"

Perschke swore at himself internally for his decision and shook his head remorsefully.

"It was dark, the colonel and lieutenant had obviously been overpowered without a shot, and I needed to get my civilian and sergeant back to the base. And I think even you would have been freaked out – the things were trying to use our radios to track us and they had these drawings of people being hung from trees everywhere."

Teal'c said nothing but bowed his head slightly and looked around with sharp eyes.

Aside from the occasional radio chatter, the group was silent.

When they reached the monolithic stone they met up with four other groups, but none had seen any clue of the location of the missing people. The spread back out and began searching beyond the monument to the west and north.

Perschke was slowly loosing hope of even finding the bodies of Mike and Orr when the disquieting clicking filtered over the radio.

Oh shit, he thought, not again.

* * *

Back at the SGC Elizabeth Weir grimaced as a tired faced Brigadier General O'Neill attempted to explain the situation concerning a missing member of her expedition team.

"Lieutenant Orr," She sighed, dropping the file back onto O'Neill's desk. "she's the one that was bugging me for the past two months to get onto the team."

Jack sighed and nodded, "yeah, she was bugging Carter to bug me, too."

"So do you know if they're alive or what?"

"We can at least assume they were alive for awhile after they were taken," he rubbed his face, ignoring the scratching from his unshaved face. "From what I hear, there were these ritualistic drawings on a big rock that showed people being tortured or something. Daniel of course had to see these in case they gave some insight as to what got them or where they are… but it's all rather sketchy, I think."

Weir leaned back in her chair and suppressed a groan.

"Should I expect to have a recovering from injury member of my expedition…"

O'Neill admired her tact, but all he could give her was a shrug.

* * *

One of their radios was blaring away loudly, wakening Michael Trapper from his unnatural sleep. Over the headset he could hear Ian's voice describing the stone to others, apparently at least two other SG teams. Never had the crackly voice of his best friend sounded so wonderful.

Grunting as his ankles throbbed painfully, he turned himself to come face to face with a death-like lieutenant Orr. He nearly screamed at the sight.

Hey eyes were wide open and cloudy, and blood had trickled down from her nose and a gash on her cheek all across her face. He had to lean in closer and hear shallow breaths before he could assure himself that she was really alive.

The clicking started again, and Trapper looked around to see three tall… things gathered around a table where his handgun, Orr's zatnikatel and radio sat. One was reaching out and tapping on the trigger piece, creating the click. For a moment all three stood there, all tall and creepy, then one of them just drifted away into the forest. Trapper played with this in his head for a while before guessing, with horror, at what it meant. They were hunting for the others.

He tried to remember what had happened earlier – They had gotten their hands untied and he was trying to free his feet when one of the things shot Orr with her own 'zat, then something beaned him in the head and he was out of it. Again.

Whatever had happened after that, it looked like Orr took the brunt of it as she now had several bruises and cuts that hadn't been there earlier. Shit.


	7. Part Three Chaper Five

The first thing she was aware of was that her body hurt like a bitch.

The second thing was the strange sensation that comes from sleeping with open eyes – very dry and everything seemed to be moving in jerks and jumps.

Unfortunately for her, she knew from experience that these were the side effects of being zatted in the brain. It'd happened before, and she was really lucky to be this lucid.

She was also very lucky that the alien thing didn't shoot her twice.

Now she was really pissed off.

Coughing to get the stale taste from her mouth, Orr quickly began analysing the situation. Trapper was still hanging beside her, and looked undamaged for the most part, but his mouth was flapping so swiftly that she decided to disregard his voice and continue her survey. They were hanging from a sturdy bough on an elm tree with hemp line, strong itself but easy enough to cut through with a sharp blade, if necessary.

She, herself, had a few minor cuts and bruises but other than that she was in keen shape – despite the shot to the head she had taken hours before.

Her hands were still untied and the bleeding had stopped, luckily.

The alien beings were about twenty feet away, playing with a radio they had stolen.

"They're tracking them," Trapper hissed, finally breaking through to her.

She turned to face him, surprise in her blood-shot eyes.

"Sir, how are they doing it?"

"With the radio, I figure. They're tapping and the third went away to follow the tapping."

The young lieutenant rubbed the uncut side of her face and groaned, "I need to get right side up before my skull pops from the pressure."

Bending her knees a few times to get the feeling back, Trapper was amazed as she was able to pull herself upright in one try – something he was sure could be attributed to the fact that she didn't have arthritis in her knees like him. She wrapped an arm around the bough they were tied off from, pulled off some humanly impossible feat of flexibility and winded up pulling a knife from her boot.

The action hadn't gone unnoticed, and one of the aliens approached menacingly.

It had a pistol in a bone white hand.

Trapper called out a warning as it aimed to fire at the younger human.

With a twist, swish and flip he fell unbound to the group.

The gun fired and impacted on the tree where Orr had been clinging only moments before.

Now she was climbing up higher into the tree, shaking off the rope around her feet, and trying to move erratically as possible to keep from becoming a target.

The second alien moved in and grabbed hold of Trapper before he could rise and get away. It held him up high, so that he was visible to anyone in the vicinity and let out what could only be described as a blood curdling shriek.

Orr stopped to look down at the fighting colonel and unmoving aliens below.

It gave enough of a widow of opportunity for the alien with the handgun to take. It fired and her hand exploded in pain, causing her to loose her grip on the tree and come crashing down, breaking branches, bouncing off boughs, and landing in a broken heap next to the base of the tree.

* * *

Sorry that this one is so short, but I'm having trouble writing it the way I want it to happen.  
I know how it should go but I can't figgure out how to get it there. 


End file.
